


Skanc Alley

by Lokifan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Class Differences, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rentboy Draco, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:51:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokifan/pseuds/Lokifan
Summary: Ron wants to roleplay him having rentboy!Draco. Draco doesn’t get it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so proud of this horrific fic title :D
> 
> This was written for Daily Deviant in September; my chosen theme was "chrematistophilia" (being aroused by paying for sex) with a smidge of "facials".

“Tell me what you want.”

Ron looked up from _Balls and Broomsticks_ \-- which was a totally legitimate Quidditch title and Draco could pipe down -- and was met with the sight of Draco slinking towards him, dark-eyed. Ron swallowed.

“Did you have a good day, love?”

“Yes,” Draco said, taking the magazine from Ron’s hand and throwing it over his shoulder. “And it got me thinking. We did the spanking thing. That was you doing something for me.”

“Yes,” Ron agreed. His hand falling onto pinkening flesh, Draco panting and crying out and squirming, watching Draco’s arse bounce with each blow -- it had all been for Draco. 

“So maybe I should do something for you.” Draco dropped onto the other side of the sofa, sitting against the arm of it. He draped himself out, his feet settling against Ron’s thigh, the long line of his body demanding Ron’s attention. “Tell me about something you want to try.”

“Er,” Ron said. “You know I’m not really good with being put on the spot outside the context of fighting evil. You remember when I first became Gryffindor Keeper. I know you do, because you wrote me a song.”

“I’m a romantic,” Draco said with a straight face. “Anyway, you don’t have to come up with something right now if you don’t want to. But think about it. There must be something you want to try. Some wicked little thought all your nice vanilla friends would be shocked to discover.”

Draco fundamentally underestimated the kinkiness of Gryffindors, but Ron wasn’t going to disabuse him of his innocent notions. At least not until he needed a distraction. 

“Okay,” he said. “So, er. A fantasy of mine I’ve been embarrassed to admit.” 

“Exactly,” said Draco. His grey eyes were bright with anticipation.

A hundred horrifically embarrassing ideas instantly cascaded through Ron’s brain and were dismissed: for being anatomically improbable, or not actually something he wanted to try in real life, or something that would get him fired or make him lose all his friends.

 _Not_ something exhibitionistic, Weasley, he told himself firmly, aware of his ears turning red under Draco’s eyes. Something private. Something secret --

Oh, of course.

“You’ve got it,” Draco said. “You’ve thought of something, I can tell.”

“It’s not fair you can tell that just by looking at me.”

“Don’t complain about my fantastic insight into body language, it’s how I give such amazing blowjobs. Now tell me your filthy fantasy, you dirty boy, so I can make it happen.”

“Okay,” Ron said, and took a deep breath. He took a moment to remind himself that his mother wasn’t a Legilimens and would never know he even knew these words. “I want. Um.” He stared very hard at his knees. The right trouser leg was going thin there.

Draco poked him with his horribly pointy toes. Ron was attacked by them every night when he tried to take his rightful share of the duvet, and he’d developed a theory that the Malfoys had deliberately evolved pointy toes (and elbows) just to be like that. “Go on,” Draco said, in a tone that was rapidly devolving towards wheedling. “I won’t make fun of you, cross my heart and hope to die. I’ll almost definitely do it, too. I’m depraved like that.”

Ron couldn’t stop himself from looking up with a fond smile. “You certainly are. All right. So. I want. I’d like you to be the the rent -- the prostitute, yeah, and I’ll be the customer. Client. John.”

He managed to get the words out almost like someone who’d been saying his own words for twenty-five years now. He was rather proud of himself.

Draco blinked at him owlishly. “You want. Wow.”

“It’s not _that_ crazy,” Ron said. _Right?_ Maybe this sort of thing was further along the continuum of kink than he’d anticipated, and he was going to be banished to the land of fetish shops with suspicious smells.

“No, no, not crazy!” Draco said. “Just not what I expected. I wasn’t anticipating a roleplay thing from you. You can’t successfully keep a surprise party under wraps, you’re not exactly a thespian.”

“You try keeping information from Hermione when she wants it,” Ron muttered. “Better men -- and librarians -- than me have fallen in that fight.”

“True.” Draco was still looking a little shocked, but a smile was beginning to bloom on his face. “So. Rentboy. Have you imagined me in some scandalous outfit? Sucking you off in an alley?” He trailed a hand down his chest, and rolled his hips upwards to meet his own touch. All words fled Ron’s head as he stared.

“So what’s the kink here?” Draco mused, his eyes on Ron’s. There was amusement in his voice, but it had gone deeper, too. Ron loved Draco’s bedroom voice. “D’you want me all slutty and available for you? Breathy-voiced and possibly wearing some leather? I can get some eyeliner if you give me a day or two -- ”

“That’s not really the point,” Ron said. He slipped one hand up Draco’s trouser leg and stroked his bare ankle. Draco loved that for some reason, and Ron loved knowing that about him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, if you’re feeling the need to have eyeliner and leather I won’t stand in your way -- ”

“Selfless as ever,” Draco said. His body was melting against the sofa.

“But. Er. It’s not really about you being all slutty or whatever. It’s more about. You know.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, wordlessly conveying that in fact he didn’t. Ron felt himself blush.

“About me having the money. And you having to do what I say.”

Oh Merlin, it was all out there now, and Draco knew precisely what a deviant he was living with. Ron’s chest felt like it was full of hot water. Draco was either about to leap up, shouting about how he couldn’t believe Ron would want something like that and he was going to tell the _Prophet_ and Hermione and everybody, or...

“Oh,” Draco said, drawing out the sound like it tasted good in his mouth. “I see. You want me to do what you say for money. You want to have the power, financial and… otherwise, and for me to be. Under you. As it were.”

Ron cringed and bent his head, hiding behind his fringe. Leave it to Draco to make the subtext really, really explicit precisely when Ron didn’t want him to. Weren’t the upper classes meant to be all about leaving things unsaid?

But then Draco had never been very good at that sort of thing, much to his mother’s despair.

“That is… yeah. Unexpected.” Draco did sound a bit taken aback, Ron could hear it under the teasing tone, and he slumped down further, hiding.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Ron said. He looked up in time to see Draco’s eyes, bright and predatory as a lion’s, coming closer. Draco slid across the sofa in one smooth movement, so much more aware of his body and how it moved than Ron would ever be, and Ron felt every crestfallen, anxious thought drop out of his head as Draco straddled him.

Draco’s weight settled atop him, warm and close around him. Ron swallowed.

“Stop hiding from me. I like knowing this about you.”

Ron almost said something sarcastic about giving up his secrets to a Slytherin. But there was something vulnerable in Draco’s face, despite the smutty smirk, and Ron knew what it meant to Draco that Ron trusted him, that Ron would let him know those million silly secrets of his heart. Ron felt it too.

“Besides,” Draco breathed, slowly leaning in, plastering his body against Ron’s, “I entirely understand. It’s hardly news that you like me when I’m desperate.”

Ron’s hands flexed on Draco’s hips. “Yeah.”

“You like to win. You like me to know it too.”

“It’s not just you sucking me off.”

“It’s having me do it full of resentment,” Draco finished the thought. He was rocking his hips, just a little, and Ron fell into the same rhythm without thought, feeling his cock begin to fill. “It’s having me look up and glare at you from the ground in that filthy alley, but I need you too much, so I open my mouth and let you slide in.”

Ron huffed out a groan, shocked by the strength of his own reaction. By how vivid the picture was, Draco’s pale face amidst the gloom, his lips spreading as Ron fed his cock in.

Ron reeled Draco in for a kiss. He wanted to remind Draco that he loved him, that it was just a fantasy, but Draco was already kissing harder, rocking faster against him. 

Draco’s mouth moved to Ron’s jaw, his neck. Ron moaned, clutching at Draco’s hair as Draco nipped him. “Go on,” Draco muttered against his skin. “Tell me.”

Ron tried to reclaim his scattered thoughts. “You try and get me off fast, but it’s not enough for me. So I pay you more to come home with me.” His cock was pressing against the zipper of his jeans now, and he could feel Draco’s breaths coming faster against his skin.

“I’m pretending I don’t want to. That it’s just the money, and I do need the money… but I want you.”

“Yeah?” Ron could barely think past Draco’s tongue and teeth on his skin, Draco’s light stubble, his hot breath.

“Your cock is very persuasive.” Draco’s hand found its way between Ron’s legs. “And it likes me too.”

Ron reached for Draco’s buttons. Draco let him, leaning back to give him room as Ron battled with Draco’s horrible fiddly shirt. “I bet you’d do this once you had me in your bedroom.”

“Oh yeah. Get you naked so I could stare at you.”

“I don’t get to stare too?” Draco deployed his most devastating pout. “Oh, right, I’m here to serve.”

He drawled out that last word like hot honey, and only hand-stitched engineering saved the cloth in Ron’s hands. 

Ron blinked at him then began working feverishly at Draco’s belt and jeans. Draco shimmied his shoulders, shirt slipping from them to leave him stripped to the waist. Ron finally got Draco’s belt off, then lost patience entirely and Vanished his jeans.

“Hey!” Draco squawked, punching Ron’s shoulder. “Those fit my arse perfectly!” 

“Comes with the job, I’d have thought.”

Draco scowled but nodded, sliding back into the fantasy. His briefs had gone too, and having Draco gloriously naked in Ron’s lap, Ron getting to squeeze and grope Draco’s bare arse while fully dressed himself -- Ron felt his stomach twist with desire. It felt like his fantasy.

Draco rocked against Ron’s cock through his trousers. “So you’ll fuck me on all fours, right? Or maybe I fuck you? How do you want it?”

Ron could feel his heart pounding. He wondered if Draco could feel it too, where they were pressed together.

He was surprised by the raspiness of his own voice. “I put you on your elbows and knees, so you’ve got your arse in the air. And the bag of Galleons right in front of your face.”

Draco twitched against him. Ron couldn’t stand it any more, and he Vanished his own clothes. It fit the fantasy, after all -- he was rich, he could use his money to play with this pretty boy -- Ron took hold of both their cocks, stroking them together, and felt a full-body tremor shudder through Draco.

“So I have to look at it -- know why I’m doing this,” Draco huffed. “And you make me do something I don’t like -- ”

“I do?”

“Right, but then I get off on it and I have to pretend I don’t.” Draco moaned breathlessly as Ron sucked a lovebite into being on his pale throat. “Maybe you spank me?”

“Maybe,” Ron said, delivering a smack with his free hand. “Or I make you beg me - ”

“Please fuck me,” Draco said immediately, taking up the theme. “Please, I need it, I’ll do anything you say -- ”

“I’ll plug you after, and you go back to your street corner with my come still inside you -- ”

“Or you could be an Auror and you arrest me and -- ”

“Nah, I’m a bad exploitative man, remember? Maybe I have you come to my office and suck me off under the desk -- ”

“I want to get myself off but then you’ll know I like it -- ”

Their voices were running over each other, blurring breathlessly as the fantasy shifted and flexed.

“I already know you like it, I made you beg -- ”

“Cos you like listening to my posh accent while you pound me -- ”

Ron winced from that truth, but Draco’s eyes were alight, his mouth falling open as he got close. Draco liked the idea of that power dynamic reversed, Ron could see it in his face -- he liked imagining Ron making him into a decorative little toy --

“I like shutting you up too. N-not here to talk.” Ron reached up and traced Draco’s lower lip; Draco shuddered, sensitive, and sucked Ron’s thumb into his mouth. Ron was so close he couldn’t see. He dragged his thumb away, not wanting to come before Draco, and pinched Draco’s nipple. Draco whimpered.

“Would you come on my face?”

Ron groaned. “Yeah… come on your face in the alley, even, make you wear it home…”

“Mark me - ”

Pleasure rushed through him before Ron even knew he was coming. His orgasm sparked Draco’s and Draco kissed him through it, Ron still working their cocks as they shuddered together, until Ron tore his mouth away, gasping for air. The shakes were still working their way out of his body; he kept stroking Draco, refusing to let up, pulling more delicious sounds out of him until Draco pushed his hand away.

After a few minutes, Ron nudged Draco. “Off my lap. My legs are going numb.”

“Ever the romantic,” Draco muttered. He ended up lying on the sofa next to Ron again; but now his eyes were glazed, his hair a mess from Ron’s hands, his position half-melted against the cushions rather than all carefully seductive angles. Ron couldn’t move.

Draco was smiling at the ceiling.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Draco said, and laughed. “Just that we’re the most English people alive. We actually kink on class differences.”

“Yep. Maybe we should do it the other way, too. I can be the rough-trade gardener.”

“Lord Chatterley’s lover?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Muggle reference.”

Draco said this so smugly that Ron rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, look at you all enlightened.”

“Mother would be horrified,” Draco said comfortably, and yawned. “Want to go to bed?”

“I’m not that tired.”

Draco gave him an expressive look. “Me neither. Want to go to bed?”

“Oh. Yes. First one in bed gets to bottom!”

“That’s not fair!” Draco whined as Ron shot past him. 

“Get me back later,” Ron called as he headed for the stairs. “Prince and servant boy?”

“Actually I was thinking I could make you one of those tea towel tunics the house elves wear.”

Ron stumbled. “You what?” 

Draco barged past him, laughing.

“You little -- ”

“Too slow, Weasley!”

They both ran for the bedroom door. Ron used his longer legs and reach against Draco, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him back. Draco stumbled back against him, all naked warm skin, and Ron stopped moving, helping him regain his balance. Draco squirmed against him with malice aforethought and Ron choked on air.

Draco laughed and darted away. Ron gave an outraged bellow but it was too late: Draco jumped onto their bed, the mattress bouncing, with a victorious cry. 

“You have to do the work! I’m gonna get fucked!”

Ron snorted and dropped down next to Draco. “I don’t think so.”

“No?”

Ron reeled Draco in for a kiss, stroking up his sides, working him up again. “You’re working for it tonight. I think I’d have my rentboy ride me, just lie back and enjoy the view…”

Draco’s eyes lit up.


End file.
